


No Longer a Stray

by Vagabond



Series: The Many Adventures of Dr. Frederick Chilton [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Art Inspired, I had to do this to make me feel better okay, Little bit of Fluff, M/M, Mostly friendship, slash barely hinted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1504004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/pseuds/Vagabond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chilton gets released but he doesn’t know where to go until he ends up in Will Graham's driveway feeling like one of his strays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Longer a Stray

**Author's Note:**

> 100% inspired by [THIS](http://onlyavideogame.tumblr.com/post/82894511284) beautiful piece of art over on tumblr. 
> 
> Seriously. That picture is the only reason this was written.

Chilton gets released but he doesn’t know where to go. 

They said his house was ready for him again but he cannot bring himself to return to it. If he does he knows he will see the bodies on the counter and hear the incessant beeping of Gideon’s heart monitor. He’ll see bright red crimson splattered across pristine white. The moment he steps in the doorway he’ll hear the FBI agents knocking and feel Hannibal grab him from behind and smell the sweet scent of chloroform as he loses consciousness. 

There are too many terrible memories contained within the walls of his old home and he had every intention of selling everything except the few personal belongings he could carry with him. He’d sell his stuff, sell his home, and find somewhere else to live. However, his future plans did not assist him in his current predicament and Chilton was forced to figure out somewhere to go since he’d been released from FBI custody. 

It was strange to get into his car and know that Hannibal was locked up somewhere awaiting trial. He reached up and gently touched the nasty scar on his face where the bullet made impact and grimaced. The pain was all psychosomatic now. Of course the surgeons had done a fabulous job repairing his face and the scar was really not that bad according to everyone he came into contact with, but through a proxy Hannibal had left a mark on him just as Dr. Abel Gideon had. 

Chilton was a marked man and he hated how much that thought made his skin crawl. 

He stoically pushed aside his discomfort and turned the key over in the ignition. His car came to life and vibrated beneath him in a way that was strangely comforting. At least for the long drive ahead of him, he could feel safe. The only things chasing him were ghosts. 

For the first half hour he just drove, not really sure where he planned to go. His first thought had been to stay at a hotel somewhere, somewhere nice, somewhere with a Jacuzzi tub and a lot of locks on the door to ensure he wouldn’t get any unwanted visitors. He’d talked himself out of it because it brought him nothing but intense anxiety and turned his stomach to knots. His second thought had been to drive to a friend’s house or call up a colleague and see if they had a guest room he could stay in for the night. Only the more he thought about it the more he realized most of his friends of colleagues had abandoned him. Even in his innocence it would be awkward to approach them. 

So hours later he drove up Will Graham’s driveway and wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. Will Graham wasn’t a friend. He had been an ally once upon a time, but he’d also been the one who’d called Jack and landed him in federal custody. Yet in a moment of need he’d trusted the man who had at one point been his enemy and it seemed yet again he trusted that the front door would open and he would be accepted. 

He got out of the car and straightened out his clothes. The FBI had been kind enough to send someone to get him an overnight bag from his home. He’d chosen a black button up shirt and a pair of worn in jeans because after getting out of prison Chilton wanted nothing more than to feel comfortable. He wanted to feel safe and suits just reminded him of unruly psychiatric clients and Hannibal fucking Lecter. 

Chilton realized he’d been standing in place for longer than he had anticipated when a fluffy sand colored dog with a stupidly curly tail and gentle eyes approached him. The dog sat politely and leaned forward to sniff delicately at his hand and on autopilot Chilton reached over and rubbed the top of the creature’s head. Then, without really meaning to, he slipped down onto his knees and hugged the dog. His fingertips dug into the soft fur along Winston’s back as he buried his face in the dog’s neck. He’d never been a dog person before but this one was a welcome sight. 

The next thing he knew he was surrounded by furry bodies, wet noses pressing against his side, his arms, his ears, and his neck. There were soft wuffling noises, gentle barks, and vibrating bodies. Life was all around him and he tried to ignore how wet his eyes had become. Never before in his life had he so greatly associated with a bunch of dogs that had been strays just like he was in that moment. 

He finally glanced up and saw Will standing a few feet away, dressed comfortably in flannel with his hands shoved in his pockets. The other man watched him thoughtfully and Chilton felt strangely at ease when he saw understanding reflected in stormy blue eyes. 

“Would you like to come in, Dr. Chilton? At least you don’t look like you need a shower this time.” Will sounded calm and casual which was a welcome gift for a man who had been treated like a criminal for months. Even after he’d been proven innocent, the officials who had dealt with him treated him as if he were dirty. He’d been tainted, touched by Hannibal Lecter’s schemes and therefore untouchable to the rest of the world. The fact he wore the result of his contact on his face for the world to see made it worse. 

But Will Graham had been touched by Hannibal too and in that they had a strange sort of kinship. Or at least, Chilton hoped they did. 

Graham whistled and the dogs all turned and headed back through the open door. All of them except Winston, who Chilton was certain must have some strange humanlike perception because he stayed at his heels even as he stood, picked up his bag, and walked to the house. He stepped inside and set the bag down gently near the door before he turned to his host who appeared to be counting the dogs. Only when the other man seemed satisfied that all of his companions were accounted for did he turn and acknowledge Chilton. 

“Nowhere else to go?” Will asked and Chilton was surprised to hear no judgment or scorn in his tone. 

“Not really. Hard to return to a home where I was attacked and upon waking discovered multiple corpses, with me wearing their blood like war paint.” He frowned a little as the memory threatened to push its way into his consciousness. Chilton shoved it to the back of his mind and returned his focus to Will. “Honestly I don’t know what inspired me to drive here. I was driving away from the FBI thinking about hotels and ended up in your driveway.” It was at least somewhat close to the truth of it. 

“Well, if you’re looking for a hotel you’ve come to the wrong place,” Will began and Chilton felt his heart sink, “but if you don’t mind the dogs you can stay here for the night. I was just about to make something for dinner and could easily double it.” 

That was all the offer Chilton needed because he was quickly nodding his head as his stomach rumbled and he thought about eating a home cooked meal. 

“Just, ah, no meat?” He almost felt bad mentioning it. He felt ungrateful, he felt miserable because it reminded him of his missing organ and being cut open by Gideon and the bowels of the dead FBI agents in his kitchen. Immediately Chilton made a bee line for the bathroom and knelt before the toilet just in time to lose what little food he had in his stomach. 

He heaved a couple times and then spit into the toilet and hated himself for the tears he felt at the corners of his eyes. 

When Chilton leaned back, shut the lid, and flushed the toilet he noticed Will standing in the doorway to the bathroom with a washcloth and a glass of water. He accepted both, silent but grateful, and wiped down his face before he swallowed down a few gulps of the water. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before he set the items aside and managed to get up to his feet. Once he was standing and steady he bent back down and picked up the cloth and the water, moving to the sink to wash his mouth out. 

“I’ll get started on dinner. Don’t worry, there won’t be meat. I’ve got some cheese ravioli I can cook.” Without another word, Will left Chilton to his embarrassing misery and he chanced a look at himself in the mirror. 

The scar really wasn’t all that terrible when he looked at it directly. There were times where it felt like more than it was, especially when he would lay in bed at night and think about it. Some nights he’d wake up in a terror believing half of his face had been torn to shreds. Others it would ache from his jaw to his temple and he would panic and believe somehow the wound was open again. In the mirror, though, it was puffy and rough but not terribly disfiguring. The plastic surgeons had done an excellent job and he really didn’t have much to complain about. 

But the letter Hannibal had written sure got to him and every time he looked at the scar all he could think about were the other man’s words. 

I hope you’re not too ugly. 

He heard something and glanced at the bathroom door to find Winston there, the dog’s stupidly fluffy tail wagging high against his butt as they made eye contact. 

“What do you think about it, dog?” Chilton asked quietly and glanced at the mirror before he walked over and knelt in front of Winston. “It is ugly?” 

Winston just whined, as if he’d picked up on the tone and knew it was an appropriate response. Then in a flash, before Chilton could stop it, the dog jumped on him and caused him to tumble to the ground. Winston licked his face, his tail wagging wildly as he showered Chilton with love. 

Any other day, the psychiatrist probably would have been offended. However in that moment, Winston’s affections were a welcome reprieve from his self loathing. 

It took a couple minutes of half hearted shoving to get Winston to stop and the dog flopped back onto his haunches and cocked his head to the side curiously. Chilton sat up and shook his head but reached out to scratch the dog behind the ears gently. Then he stood and retrieved the washcloth in order to wash the dog slobber off of his face. When it was all said and done he felt better somehow and made his way out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen, Winston at his heels. 

“He likes you.” Will stated without even looking up from the boiling pasta he was poking with a wooden spoon. 

“A bit too much, I think.” Chilton replied but didn’t really mean it and reached down to pat Winston on the head apologetically. 

“You both have something in common, you know.” Will pointed out and Chilton frowned slightly as he glanced down at Winston. What on earth could he have in common with a dog? 

“What?” Chilton asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

“You were both strays once.” After he answered, Will moved to drain the pasta and occupied himself with the pan on the stove that appeared to have some sort of white wine sauce in it with all sorts of seasonings. Whatever it was, it smelled good and lacked meat, so he’d eat it. For the first time in a long while his stomach grumbled and he realized he had an appetite. 

“Wait, once?” He’d almost been distracted away from the statement by the promise of food but in the lull, as Will finished coating the raviolis and put them onto the plates, Chilton had realized exactly what had been said. He tried to ignore the fact he’d thought the very same thing about himself earlier. 

Will just smiled a small smile at him and walked to the kitchen table and set the plates down. 

“I have a thing for strays,” Will finally answered and Chilton actually felt himself smile.


End file.
